Sheltering His Desire (9 page)

He trailed his lips along her cheek, and down
her jaw. Traipsed a line of kisses over her clavicle and to her
sternum. Each new, feather-light touch sent a pleasant shudder
through her. She whimpered and tilted her head back as he moved
lower. His touch through fabric teased her. She shifted her weight
to bring herself closer, and he lifted his head to close his mouth
over hers again.

One hand found its way under her shirt, and
she gasped at the barely-there sensation of his palm on her bare
skin. She rested one hand at the base of his neck. The short, blond
hairs tickled her fingertips as she held his head captive. Sank
into the growing hunger. She dug her fingers into his chest,
memorizing each new line of definition as she grasped for something
to cling to.

The desperation that had been there last
night was gone, replaced with something steadier. More sensual. But
need still bubbled inside her. She wanted to burn every touch into
her memory to savor later. He brushed the bottom of her breast with
his thumb, and a gasp tore from her throat. He dragged a path
across her nipple, then back again, teasing through fabric.
Dampness grew between her legs.

He kissed along the edge of her ear. “You
make delicious noises when you’re turned on.” His voice was so
quiet she felt it as much as heard it. “What kind of sounds do you
make if I do this?” He dragged the cup of her bra out of the way,
scraping lace and elastic over the tender skin.

She sucked in a sharp breath through her
teeth. “That kind apparently.” It was a struggle to find words.

“What if I do this?” He lowered his head, and
flicked his tongue over the jutting pink nub. Slowly at first, but
then building up speed.

She squirmed against him with a whimper. An
ache called from between her thighs.

“That’s good too.” He blew lightly on the
damp skin.

Her head felt light as the blood rushed from
it. Squeaks and gasps pushed from her throat.

“I’ve got a better place for this.” He
covered her hand with his.

She managed a laugh. “Where’s that?”

Palm against the back of her hand, he guided
them both lower. Her fingers brushed a bulge, hard and long,
outlined by denim, and he groaned. “Right there.”

A new spark of desire raced through her, and
she traced his erection through his jeans. Each time she brushed it
from a new angle, or gripped his shaft, or caressed the head, he
responded. Kissing her nipple, sucking, nipping the flesh with his
teeth.

She wasn’t sure how long they sat there,
clothes half-out of the way, groping and kissing while she sat on
the tailgate of her Suburban, him standing between her legs. But
this wasn’t making out with a boy at the lake. She could have more.
She drew his mouth back to hers, and kissed him hard, tongues
dancing around each other.

When she broke away, she met his gaze. “We
should go back to my place. Or yours. Wherever.”

His hungry gaze slid over her face. “What’s
wrong with here?”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “We’re outside.”
Except, did she actually mind?

He nipped at her neck with his teeth, and
then her shoulder. “And no one’s around. We have the area to
ourselves. It’s dark.” He looked her in the eye again. “And tell me
the idea of getting caught isn’t at least a little exciting.”

Her anticipation spiked. “It’s more than just
a little exciting.”

“Good.” He dragged a thumb across her nipple
again. “Because I’ve tried. I really have. To put yesterday out of
my mind.” He covered her hand again, and squeezed. She followed his
lead and tightened her grip on his bulge, stroking as he pressed
against her hand.

He lifted her chin, holding her head in
place, and locked her gaze on hers. “My best intentions have
failed.” His voice had dropped an octave, and the husky tone
floated over her skin. His accent was back. The drawl he tried so
hard to hide. The one that made her senses flare to life. “I can’t
stop thinking about your lips wrapped around my cock. How gorgeous
you looked. How incredible it felt. But I’m dying to bury myself
inside you. Knowing how tight you were, how wet you got? I want to
feel your pussy squeeze around me.”

He dipped his head in again, the heat from
his breath hot against her cheek when he whispered, “I have condoms
tonight. God, I need to fuck you, Lys.”

Part of her mind snagged on the words. He’d
planned to spend this evening with her. The entire night, right?
But he’d stopped for protection? A smirk slid onto her face. She
fumbled for the button on his jeans, and then slid down the zipper.
“I like the sound of that,” she said.

Tate was so hard, he could barely think.
Every time Lys traced his cock, his entire system jerked with
pleasure. When she finally freed him from his jeans, the
combination of her warm palm and the cool air brushing his bare
skin dragged a long groan from him. He wanted to draw this moment
out, but his resistance hovered near empty.

She stroked his shaft, and he squeezed her
breast harder. She made the most delicious whimpers with every
touch. He made quick work of the button and zipper on her jeans,
and tugged. She kicked off her sandals, and lifted her ass off the
tailgate long enough for him to drag her pants down her legs. It
was too dark to stop and drink her in, but her pussy—the way it
looked, the way she tasted, was burned in his mind anyway. He moved
a hand between her legs. When he pressed into her slit, his fingers
were instantly coated.

“God, you’re so wet.” He dug his teeth into
her shoulder, muffling his words.

“I blame you ahh—” Her teasing words faded
into a gasp when he shoved two fingers inside her.

He slid in easily, pumping in and out. “You
were saying?”

She shook her head, bottom lip caught between
her teeth. Each time he pumped inside her, she squirmed and pushed
back. He sought out her clit with his thumb. His dick throbbed in
the night air, eager and waiting.

Her breathing grew more punctuated. Groans
became gasps became panting. “Fuck, Tate. Oh, God.”

She was close, he could tell from her rigid
spine, the lilt of her sighs, and the way she clenched around his
fingers. Climax rolled through her. He needed to be inside her,
now. In a fluid motion, he pulled his hand away, and thrust his
cock inside her.

Her fading cries peaked again, and she dug
her nails into his back. He pounded her. She felt even better than
he imagined. Spots danced in front of his eyes as his orgasm built.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and kept the pace fast and
frantic. She gripped his erection when she came again.

Every point of contact converged into a
single spot in his mind. He couldn’t last any longer. As much as he
wanted to draw the moment out, it wasn’t going to happen. He ground
against her as he came, spilling hot and frantic inside her. Still
driving hard until his legs were weak, and he was spent.

He rested his hands on the tailgate, on
either side of her, to support his weight, and buried his head
against her shoulder.

She rested her forehead on his chest, still
sighing with each gasp for air as she brought her breathing under
control.

He slid out as he softened, and something
occurred to him. “Fuck,” he muttered against her skin. What was
wrong with him?

“Already?” Her laugh was light.

God damn it. He’d never done that before.
Ever. “I forgot the condom.”

Her frame froze beneath him, and then she
pushed him back. Wide eyes met his. “You said you had one.”

“I do. Still.” He tried to keep his tone
calm. Struggled not to let his irritation with himself leak into
it. “I got caught up in the moment. I forgot…”

She lifted her clothes from the ground with
her toes, and shook the dust off. The snap of denim was loud in the
late evening. “Forgot.”

He didn’t know what bothered him more. That
he’d gotten so caught up in the moment it had slipped his mind, or
that he had enjoyed it so much he wanted to do it that way again.
With her. “I’m sorry.”

She raked her fingers through her hair. “Do
you forget a lot?”

“Never.” He poured all the emphasis into the
word.

“So, you’re clean, right?”

The question stung, but he understood her
concern. If there was one thing he hadn’t been for years, it was
celibate. “Absolutely.”

She nudged him back with her body. “I’m on
birth control. We should be good.”

A strange kind of ambivalence nudged his
senses. What the hell? He was just a little drained. That was
fantastic news. “Good. Great.” He forced himself to relax.

****

The ride back home started quiet, but
conversation eventually flowed again. Alyssia leaned back in the
passenger seat, watching the passing lights, and swapping random
banter with Tate. A strange moment of panic and hope had passed
through when she’d said he hadn’t used protection. A bubble of
fantasy. Of what might happen if her birth control failed. However,
she knew that wasn’t his dream. The last thing she wanted was for
him to feel trapped, or obligated by something like… She didn’t
even dare think the words. She wouldn’t do that to him.

They pulled up in front of her townhouse, and
she met him outside the vehicle. In the dim light, streetlights
highlighting his features, he looked as handsome as he ever had.
She traced a finger down his cheek. “You heading out?” She
swallowed the desire to ask him directly to stay. That wasn’t
no
strings
.

He intertwined his fingers with hers, and led
her toward her townhome. “I’m a little wired, and I don’t have
anywhere else to be. If you’re not busy, I might stick around.”

She couldn’t fight her smile. “I think I
could make time for that.”

He unlocked the door, stepped aside for her
to enter, and hooked her keys on their hook. “Movies?”

“Sure. I’ll find something. I have Coke in
the fridge.” This was better. It was the comfortable, laid back
interaction she enjoyed with Tate. It was true, thinking his name
still made her blood run hot, and she didn’t know if she’d ever
stop daydreaming about the way he kissed. And everything he’d
kissed. But at least they were acting normal again.

“I’m good.” He dropped onto the couch.
“Something smart?”

“Something sweet.” She grabbed the remote and
pulled up a list of streaming videos. Moments later,
Silver
Linings Playbook
started. She wasn’t worried he’d argue. For as
much as Tate swore no one in real life got a happily ever after, he
enjoyed the fictional version. Only guy she’d ever met who didn’t
mind sitting through romance movies with her.

He patted the couch next to him. No reason to
overthink this now. She took the seat, and tucked her legs beneath
her. He draped his arm over her shoulders, and she leaned in. This
was definitely doable.

The film started, and though she’d seen it
several times, she let herself be sucked into the story line. They
finished one movie, and picked another. Somewhere along the way,
Tate nudged her forward, lay down in the couch, and then pulled her
back into him. She didn’t argue when he pulled her tight, pressing
her back against his chest, and draping his arm over hers.

Within a few minutes, his breathing shifted.
He’d drifted off—the realization tugged something inside her. She
could get used to this. That was probably a bad road for her to go
down. She adjusted her thinking as she snuggled into him. It wasn’t
like she wanted him there every night for the rest of their lives
or anything. This was just comfortable. Nothing more.

****

Tate stretched and tried to push the
lingering fog of sleep from his brain. He couldn’t believe he’d
passed out on Alyssia’s couch. He had vague memories of her warm
body in his arms, but maybe he’d just dreamed that. No, he was
pretty sure it was real.

Something clattered from the kitchen, jarring
him more awake. Might as well investigate. He paused in the
doorway, and his senses roared to life. Lys had her back to him,
and was grabbing something from the counter. Her damp hair hung
down her back, and she only wore a T-shirt and panties.

His cock roared to life, straining against
his jeans. Fuck, that was sexy. And she probably wouldn’t
appreciate him staring. He cleared his throat.

She let out a small squeak and whirled to
face him. She blushed and crossed her arms over her chest. He tried
to drag his gaze away, and finally managed. “I didn’t mean to
startle you.” He winced at his own drawl. He must be more tired
than he realized.

“It’s okay.” She tugged down the edges of her
shirt, sighed and then stopped, looking him in the eye again. “I’m
not used to waking up with someone else in the house. I guess I
forgot my pants.”

“I’m not complaining.” His erection was
starting to protest at being ignored, though. “Have you been up
long?”

“My brain is still on graveyards. I haven’t
been to sleep yet. I was just seeing if I had any food to make. Do
you want breakfast? I can cook something. Or, well, not really. I
can make oatmeal—”

She was adorable when she rambled. “Stop.” He
wasn’t sure if he was talking to her, or himself. He crossed the
distance between them, and dragged a thumb over her bottom lip. His
fingers tightened, wanting another touch. He tried to be subtle
about smothering his rampant arousal. “We’re good, right? We got
past this last night?”

“I think so.” She chewed on the inside of her
lip, and meet his gaze. “I mean, we totally are.”

“Good.” He rested his hands on her hips and
nudged her back until she collided with the counter. “Because you
look fucking hot, and I don’t think you owe anyone any apologies
for that.” She shifted her weight, and her hip rubbed his cock
through his jeans. The blood rushed from his head, and he struggled
for a moment to form words. He dipped his head, and trailed his
nose along her neck, inhaling deeply. She smelled intoxicating,
like lilacs. “It’s too bad you already showered.” He nipped at her
earlobe. Her gasp burrowed into his head, short-circuiting his
thoughts. “I would have asked if I could join you.”